A Poem

I started to write this as a joke while I sat  in class, but I liked the concept and finished it. I would love some feedback on it. Suggestions for improvement, what you think about it.

Emotional Cheeseburger

(copyright www.onemeanmfa.wordpress.com)


I cried once,

eating a Wendy’s dollar menu cheeseburger.

My hunger palpable.

The pangs banging against

the inner lining of my belly.




I’m fucking starving, I kept thinking.

Had you asked me what starvation was

I would have answered,




We sat in the drive-through




I want my damn burger,

Give it to me.

I need the meat.



We drove, the car smelled like

potatoes drenched in reused oil and refrigeration.

Give it to me.


It was passed over

white paper bags and

cardboard potato holders.

The smell: greasy paper wrapped meat nestled

between white bleached bread

soaked with condiments and a meaty residue.


One bite

So satisfied

The lettuce ripped apart by


Meat, pickles, and ketchup

Ground together bringing tears to my eyes.


Copyright: www.onemeanmfa.wordpress.com


Thanks again for the feedback, in advance.



  1. Oh dear, you got spammed by “Katie.” That comment doesn’t say much. I, on the other hand do offer real comments. 🙂

    I like the concept a lot. I love that you use the cheeseburger as a metaphor for an emotional state. Reading it a second time, I get the emptiness of some things, such as the wheat bun. My question is about the “we” and how can that be connected to the emotional hunger expressed by the speaker in your poem. I think there’s something there.

    1. I couldn’t tell if it was spam or not…and let me say, I totally appreciate your comments, because they are always insightful.

      I had a friend read the poem and they suggested adding something to the end of it, and remove the part that comes after the italics. I don’t know what to add to the end though. Thoughts?

  2. Something after – tears or crying is an emotional climax, so it might help to think of that in terms of the story of the poem. I like it the ending here, but what kind of resolution is there? Yeah, I’m thinking more like a fiction writer than poet.

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